


Betwixt and Between

by Daeg



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort, Intersex, M/M, Menstruation, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daeg/pseuds/Daeg
Summary: For a DA Kink prompt.Anders is intersex and has been self-conscious about his body for his whole life, so he tries to keep that part of himself a secret, even from his lovers. He's learned his lesson in the past.He's in an intermediate, indecisive position, feeling neither wholly one thing nor another.Enter Fenris, and between a rock and a hard place, he feels his control slip.





	1. In Medias Res

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That which opens in the midst of action. Exposition is filled in by dialogue or the mention of past events.

"Mage."  
  
He could barely hear him over the ruckus of the clinic. There was crying, coughing and yelling. Even so the voice brought a shiver down his spine.  
  
"Anders."  
  
The man placed the poultice down on the rickety table, trying to will his hands from shaking. He hadn't expected the elf to come to him in broad daylight and was unprepared to face him. Then again, the elf probably thought the same and had taken his chance. Maker damn him. He knew Anders would not abandon the clinic. He was stuck.  
  
"Yes, Fenris." he replied as calmly as he could, not bothering to stop organising his ragtag collection of bottles, hoping the busy atmosphere would be enough to discourage the elf's quest. "Are you hurt?"  
  
He looked down at the desk, so he did not know how the other reacted, or if he even did. He could only hope to wound his pride a bit and make him leave. He could not deal with this now.  
  
As such he almost yelped when a dark gauntleted hand slammed close to his, making him step away in fright. "M-Maker, what-"  
  
"We will have words, mage."  
  
He couldn't help staring at the elf then, grimacing when he thought he'd caught an expression of anger. But it was not so. The elf looked... Worried? Perhaps he _was_ hurt.  
  
"Anders..." the voice became quieter, softer. "Are you busy?"  
  
The taller man gave his poultices a forlorn look.  
  
"No. Not with the potions. Do you have anyone in need of care?" The edge was back to the elf's voice, but his face didn't show any annoyance.  
  
Anders figured he could lie. Surely someone would cough a little louder for him if he showed distress. Fenris had a reputation around here after all. And he seriously doubted he was hurt. He was never approached this way before.  
  
With a sigh, the mage shook his head. "No. Not as such. What do you need?"  
  
The elf seemed to relax, eyes lowered for the first time the confrontation started. But he also seemed somehow defeated.  
  
"Just how private are your rooms?" he asked, looking past him this time, at the small rickety frame that held open a cloth-covered hole in the wall at the far end of the clinic.

"Most patients stir clear of them." Anders said, not really wanting to move the conversation there now that he realised the elf was indeed here to mention that thing.  
  
"Let us move then." Was his only reply before the elf moved, walking towards the frame.  
  
Anders sighed, tipping the mouth of one empty bottle. He would follow, and they would have words, like the elf said. They really should. But it didn't mean he wanted to. He moved before he could be called over like a petulant child, following the elf into his room. Some of his patients looked at him as he went, but none said a thing.

"Right" he started, wanting to take control of the conversation. "You wanted to talk."  
  
The elf was just there, on the furthest corner of the small room, standing straighter than he usually did, arms crossed and face... Well, his expression was closed, unlike when he talked in the clinic. Anders couldn't tell what he was thinking at the moment.  
  
"If you just came here to-"  
  
"Hush" Green eyes snapped open. "I understand you have a need to fill the air with words, but I won't let you derail me."  
  
Anger began to boil his blood and Anders made to speak again, only to have the other raise a hand, as if asking for peace.  
  
"I... I came to say something, mage." he continued. "Afterwards you may have your time, and I promise to listen to every word of what you say."  
  
It was enough to pacify him for the moment. It also seemed the elf was not here to ask anything of him. Which could possibly be worse than what he feared.  
  
The mage nodded, clasping his hands together in what he hoped wasn't a nervous gesture.  
  
"I understand you and I have had some disagreements in the past." The elf began. "We've fought and continue to fight when the time calls for it. But I had hoped you'd realise I would never hurt you when we are alone."  
  
Anders blinked.  
  
It seemed to aggravate the elf.  
  
"What I mean, ma- Anders." he seemed to be making an effort to correct himself. "Is that I won't push the matter further. Trust is hard to come by, and if I haven't yet earned yours, I take no offence."  
  
The mage stopped fidgeting, his confusion winning over his nervousness. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Need I say it again? I won't approach you again, Anders. You may rest safe knowing so."  
  
He was talking about that thing between them. Anders was sure now. He just hadn't expected this to be the subject at all. The elf was being so cordial and so vague he could barely understand what he'd meant.  
  
"You mean... You want to stop this?" he asked, clenching his hands tight in fear. The elf seemed to take the question with shocked surprise though.  
  
"I will if... If you believe it to be for the best."  
  
"No." he cut in before the elf could said anything further. "No, I.. I don't want that." He cursed. Of course the elf would wish to be finished with him. He had done little else than push him away at any opportunity so far. He should have at least given him-  
  
"You're thinking too hard." Only then did he notice the other had moved closer. He bit his lip, not wanting to speak what was flooding his mind and possibly ruin the conversation even more.  
  
"If you wish to continue as we were, I am fine with that." Fenris said, one metal encased hand gently caressing his neck, then his cheek, making his skin break into goosebumps. "I simply wanted to let you know I can tell how uncomfortable you are at times, especially when I-"  
  
"It's me, not your fault."  
  
"Don't lie, mage." The elf tsked, cutting him off. "I understand."  
  
"No you don't!" Anders pulled away, trying not to think of how close the elf was to ending this because of a misunderstanding. "And I do trust you. It's not that."  
  
The elf was giving him a look that clearly said he didn't believe him.  
  
"It's me, Fenris. I want to, but I just-"  
  
"If you want to, then I won't stop you." Fenris said calmly. "It is in your hands. Mine I shall keep to myself." He said with a smile.  
  
Anders could do little else than not melt at that point. "Andraste have mercy, Fenris. I..."  
  
"HEALER!"  
  
Both men stared at each other, Anders biting his lip again and Fenris sighing.  
  
"I wish to cook tonight. Will you join me after the day is over?" The elf let his hand reach the blond's hair, digging softly into the strands. "Just dinner." he asked, pressing a small kiss to his lips.  
  
Anders nodded, shivering slightly at the sensation. The elf hesitated for a second before deepening the kiss, opening his large green eyes as if to make sure Anders wasn't hiding discontentment over the action, making the mage shiver. He reached to grasp the blond's hip and press them close, pulling back from the embrace only when he needed air.  
  
"Until then."  
  
Anders stood there for a while longer, after the makeshift cloth door settled, hands pressed tightly against his crotch. He whimpered slightly when he pulled them away and took several deep breaths before returning to the clinic.

 


	2. Deus ex Machina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plot device whereby a seemingly unsolvable problem is suddenly and abruptly resolved by the inspired and unexpected intervention of some new event.

It was hard to focus after the elf left.  
  
Anders spent the next few hours in front of his desk, bottling potions and poultices as he tried wrapping his mind over Fenris' words.  
  
He had never taken this long to show himself to a lover before, that was true. So perhaps the elf was right, when he expressed Anders might not trust him completely. He didn't want to think so, but what else could it be? Of all his lovers Fenris was the most antagonistic. It still was perplexing how they were together in the first place.  
  
It hurt to think so. He'd come to think of the elf as someone special. And even if they weren't involved, Fenris had never once placed him in danger.  
  
The mage groaned, leaning over his table. It was frustrating.  
  
Their shared time was one of the few truly enjoyable things he had at the moment. Void, in years. Their kissing might leave him frustrated beyond measure, but he was willing to take that over nothing at all. Maker only knew why Justice did not complain over the elf.  
  
But Fenris was a different matter. The elf was handsome, and could pull on people's hearts and eyes easily enough. To be stuck with him, a mage, and to get nothing out of their activities but kissing and a few touches...  
  
"Maker preserve me." he sighed, rubbing his face. There was absolutely no reason for the elf to keep him around. That's probably why he'd come today, to truly free himself and find someone else. Anders' indecision had just made it harder on him.  
  
But now he had a dinner to attend.  
  
"Lirene, could you help me close, please?" he asked, picking up an overturned cot. The woman looked surprised. He hardly ever truly closed the clinic. But his night was taken.  
  
Even if it was just to say goodbye to the elf. He supposed one last dinner would be nice. Fenris was a true gentleman, and Anders liked being wooed.  
  
He'd suck it up and face the tiger tonight, instead of waiting around for Fenris to grow frustrated to the point of blows. At least he'd be leaving on his own terms.  
  
"There are some bottles in the basket-" He told Lirene as he turned to enter his room and wash up. "You can take some up. I'll leave the rest outside."  
  
He hoped the elf would ignore him after this at least. He wasn't sure he'd be able to take his words like before. Especially if he knew what he was.  
  


\-------------

 

The healer pressed a hand to his back, grimacing as he made his way out of Darktown.  
  
He'd taken a quick warm bath, if it could even be called such, and quickly dressed in one of his nicer robes. It didn't help he only had one coat, but all things considered, he figured he owed Fenris this much. He didn't need to get there sweating and complaining about the aches his work left him with. Thought he had no luck with the pain either, he felt like someone had whacked his flank with a switch.  
  
As he made his way up, Anders started thinking that perhaps he could get away unscathed. All he needed to do was lead Fenris back to their previous conversation and tell him he'd thought twice about it. It would save him the embarrassment, and... Maker help him, the _pain_ should Fenris feel adventurous.  
  
The mere thought was enough to make him shudder.  
  
But what would be the point then? If the elf didn't know, would he really need to leave him in the first place? _No, what about Fenris' needs? He couldn't jus-_  
  
"Justice..." he sighed, moving his free hand from his back and pressing it against his forehead. "Please... Let me think clearly."  
  
He hadn't even noticed the pressure building up behind his eyes until it eased a bit with his words.  
  
It wasn't fair on Fenris. But it wasn't fair on him either. The Maker had not been fair when He'd given him this body.  
  
Getting frustrated about it wouldn't help, Anders knew this. He should stick to his plan, go to Fenris, have a good time during dinner and... And-  
  
And there it was. The dilapidated mansion the elf called home. Anders stopped and gripped his staff tighter.  
  
It was already pretty dark and he really shouldn't dally around in Hightown with his staff and no company. At least that's the reason he gave himself as he walked faster and entered the mansion without thinking further on his dilemma.  
  
"Mage."  
  
The voice startled him, and he could tell the elf noticed. The warrior walked down the stairs and stood before him. "Anders."  
  
"G'night." the healer mumbled, embarrassed. "I... I'm here."  
  
The elf tilted his head, apparently confused with the human's behaviour. "So you are. Did... Did you have any trouble getting here? You seem flustered."  
  
"No, no. I'm fine." he stammered, trying to keep his voice in check. "Just... Nothing, my back's been bothering me."  
  
The elf nodded, seemingly accepting his excuse. "I've kept a fire in my room, it should be warm enough by now. Hopefully it will help."  
  
Anders nodded again. He could see the elf was keeping his distance. It would make things easier at least.  
  
Both of them made their way upstairs, into the only room Fenris bothered using. The fire played a pleasant shift of lights across the room, and the air was heavy with the scent of spices and warm wine. Anders' stomach took notice immediately, much to his embarrassment.  
  
Fenris picked up a glass and turned to him, grinning. For a moment Anders forgot why he'd come to the elf that night, and took the glass smiling as well.

They had fallen back into a comfortable silence as Fenris opened the wine. Anders made to get the food and serve them, but was stopped by the elf, who pointed at a cushioned chair next to the fireplace.  
  
"You're my guest." the elf said with pride in his voice. "Get comfortable."  
  
Anders nodded, flushed, and set the his glass on the table. He removed his pauldrons and coat, already feeling the effects of the warm air on his skin. He didn't want to think much for now. Now he'd have dinner, enjoy the company, fill his belly.  
  
He sank onto the chair, groaning when his sore back hit the cushions. "Need one of these in the clinic." he mumbled, leaning back.  
  
He didn't see the soft look the elf cast his way, nor the slight tilt of his smile as he reached to pour him a glass of wine.  
  
"You'd give it away before sundown." was the reply, and then Anders had a warm cup of wine in front of him. He didn't stand on ceremony and took it.  
  
"You're right, but a man can dream." He didn't bother denying it. He enjoyed the way the elf spoke to him like this. He was calm, respectful, and Anders was still afraid of overstepping with a insensitive joke or comment.  
  
As dinner went by, Anders grew weary. He was enjoying this far too much. The elf was keeping his distance, sitting on his side of the table and never making a move. It seemed so unlike how they usually acted as soon as they were alone.  
  
But... He was not blind. He could see how the elf's eyes roamed his body, lingering on his lips and on his neck. He flushed under the attention and tried to ignore it. Tried to press his legs together until it hurt.  
  
"Thank you for the meal." he quietly said when he'd drained the last of his wine. It had been wonderful, especially after so many days of barely eating.  
  
"You seem to have enjoyed yourself." Came the rumbling response, in a tone that made Anders shiver. He looked up at the elf, expecting to see him approaching.  
  
But the elf didn't seem willing to make a move. He sat there, apparently consumed by his thoughts, but still looking at Anders like he wanted to eat him.  
  
The healer swallowed. Had this been any other night they'd be kissing on the elf's couch by now. Hands on his hair and chest, pulling and-  
  
"Do you wish to move?"  
  
He was startled out his thoughts, blinking at the elf, who for a fraction of a second, looked terribly amused.  
  
"Move?"  
  
Fenris nodded, then turning his head slightly, indicating his bed. Oh.  
  
He clenched his hands hard, his whole body tensing up. The pain on his back intensified and a distressed sound escaped his throat, forcing his eyes closed.  
  
He heard the sound of a chair scraping the tilled floor and the patter of feet moving closer. A soft weight on his shoulders startled him and he forced himself to relax when he realised it was Fenris.  
  
One of the hands moved down his back, right over the sore spot, making him hiss.  
  
"Where does it hurt?" The elf's voice was smooth, but he could still hear the roughness behind the words, as if Fenris was forcing himself to speak softly when all he wanted was to growl.  
  
It did things to him, especially when those hands were pressing down on his aches, helping him relax his muscles. He should have thanked the elf but moved away, yet he couldn't. "T-there, on my sides."  
  
The elf's hands moved over the thin fabric of his robes, gently kneading the skin underneath.  
  
Before he knew it he was leaning on the table, head resting over his arms, softly moaning whenever the elf pressed too hard or just right. Pain was quickly forgotten as his skin prickled and flushed under the attention. He arched his back, worse than a cat in heat, and squeezed his legs together, gasping when he felt a warm rush of liquid heat between them.  
  
He grabbed onto the table with a hand, muffling his sounds against his other arm. There was a tug as he felt the robes being pulled up, and he relented, lifting his hips just enough so that Fenris could pull them off him.  
  
He expected the elf's hands on him soon after but they never came. Instead he heard a gasp. "Mage, you're wounded."  
  
He turned around, a feeling of dread taking him when he saw his blood stained robes.


	3. Horribile Dictu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A horrible thing to relate another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for I have hurt you. Perhaps not enough.

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't even blink.  
  
Suddenly all the restraint the elf seemed to have that evening was gone. His calm demeanour broke and he reached for Anders's arm, gripping it tight in worry.  
  
"Where are you hurt? Heal yourself!" his voice boomed, snapping Anders out of his panic induced paralysis.  
  
He jumped out of the seat, eyes immediately focusing on the cushion, widening when he saw the blood there as well. He pulled his arm free from Fenris and backed away, his skin crawling with the feeling the stickiness between his legs, with how his pants pulled at his skin.  
  
His back pain wasn't from standing for too long at all.  
  
"Mage, Anders-" the elf was moving, pushing the chair away, looking at him. Looking at his crotch.  
  
Anders tried to cover himself with his hands.   
  
"Anders-" The elf was clearly confused, not expecting the mage to back away when he was hurt. "Don't move, you'll make it worse."  
  
A maniacal laugh escaped his lips, or perhaps it was a sob. The healer couldn't tell. He wanted to hide. To snatch his robes from the elf's hand and run.  
  
"NO!" He almost yelled when Fenris took another step towards him, freezing the elf in his tracks. "I'm fine. This is nothing."  
  
Fenris frowned, looking back at the robes. They were quite soaked, and the blood was clearly fresh. Not to mention the healer was trying to cover his crotch like a blushing maiden caught naked. It made no sense.  
  
"Mage, it is not fine." his voice had lost his earlier gentleness. "You're bleeding all over your clothes."  
  
Anders shook his head. Of all the times for this to happen... "Fenris, I'm not. Just- Just give me the robes and I'll be on my way."  
  
Fenris' ears twitched and the elf clutched the fabric tighter, pulling it behind his back. "Come here."  
  
The human really did sob then, nails digging into his skin from how hard he was clenching his hands. "No... No, I can't."  
  
He could hear movement again and his heart sped up. He felt like a cornered animal, ready to flee. The elf must have noticed and stopped as well, this time just a few steps from him. His expression had turned deadly.  
  
"Tell me this isn't what it looks _like_."  
  
Oh Maker.  
  
"Tell me, mage!" All warmth was gone from his voice. The elf's eyes narrowed and he'd bared his teeth. Anders felt actual fear then. "Tell me you're not some disgusting _abomination_!"  
  
Something broke inside of him. He slumped back against the cold stone wall and lost all strength in his legs, sliding down to the ground. How could he have known from that? How could he tell his body wasn't right?  
  
Anders couldn't hold back his tears, pressing his hands to his face in a failed attempt to hide them. "I-I'm sorry." He sobbed, eyes closed tight. "I didn't want you to know."  
  
"When did this happen?" He heard the elf's accusing tone. Not even in their most heated fights had the elf sounded this hateful.  
  
"I- I was born like this-" he managed to get out between sobs, pressing his face as close to his knees as possible. Maker, even the worst of his lovers had not reacted this badly. Why had he come? He should have just kept quiet that morning. Asked Justice to tell the elf to leave him alone, anything. Anything but this. "It's my body, I can't change it! I wouldn't-" He couldn't bear the thought of Fenris being disgusted by him. "I- I just wanted to kiss you, I swear!"  
  
All he wanted right then was to disappear, to crawl into a hole and just be gone.  
  
He sobbed harder when he heard the elf come closer. He... He wouldn't actually hurt him, would he? He'd said so before, but...  
  
He felt a hand on top of his head and tried to move, to get away. "Don't! I'll go, I'll just go, please don't do any-"  
  
"What do you mean, your body is this way?"

Anders tried moving away, but Fenris' other hand came to rest on his knee and he panicked, growing stiff under the touch. He had no more answers himself. Why did the Maker hate him to the point of cursing him twice? He did not know.  
  
"Ma- Anders."  
  
This was so much worse than what he'd imagined. Why did he go to the elf? He should have been good and listened to Justice. He didn't need anyone else knowing. He didn't need anyone else.  
  
The hand on his head was moving, combing his hair out of his pony tail and smoothing it down. "I think I made a mistake." he heard distantly.  
  
The hands moved and Anders recoiled again, hitting his head against the wall. He covered his face when the elf tried checking on him, and refused to budge when he reached to pull him from the cold stone.  
  
It seemed like forever before the other moved. The mage heard quick steps slapping against the tiles and the slamming of the door, leaving Anders alone.  
  
He let out a relieved breath but still didn't stir. He felt lightheaded and the pain on his lower back had returned.  
  
Things had gone to the void pretty fast.  
  
After a few minutes he began to shiver, finally standing up and warming his poor skin. He rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the mark of his tears and moved closer to the now dying fire.  
  
He couldn't find his stained robes anywhere, but that wouldn't stop him from leaving. He picked up his coat and dressed as fast as he could.  
  
But then he found himself staring at the stained chair. His fingers itching to clean it, to make it go away. It wasn't safe to leave his blood in this place.  
  
It was filthy blight-ridden mage blood. He needed to burn it.  
  
"Anders."  
  
He jumped, turning around with his hand open, a blazing flame coating his fingers, ready to strike. The elf stood at the doorway, a bucket and a bundle of cloth in his arms. The mage could feel tears threatening to fall again.  
  
The bucket was placed on the floor, and the elf stood there, between him and the door. "Can we talk?"  
  
A hot flash of pain burned in his chest, and Anders saw how easy it would be to set the elf on fire. He closed his eyes and clenched his hand shut, nails digging into skin, extinguishing the flame.  
  
He didn't move when he heard the elf stepping closer. Although he was practically jumping out of his skin with nervous fear, he wouldn't let the elf talk to him like that again.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Fenris was standing in front of him, so close he needed to look down, hand stretched as if trying to pass him the bundle of cloth. Anders made a noise from the back of his throat. It sounded pained and hurt, like a kicked dog, and the mage hated himself for it.  
  
When he didn't move to grab the bundle, Fenris spoke again.  
  
"I'm sorry I accused you of blood magic."  
  
Anders sucked a breath, this time looking straight into the elf's eyes in disbelief. "B-blood magic?" he croaked.  
  
The elf moved his hand again, waving the bundle almost under his nose and Anders took it, not letting his eyes off the elf, but slowly turning the soft cloth to examine it.  
  
"It's a nightgown."  
  
Another twist and the garment came loose, spilling it's length to the ground in Anders' hands. Other smaller ribbon-like pieces fell from the now loose parcel, handing from his fingers by mere chance. The mage stared at them and then back at the elf. "Bandages?"  
  
He received a nod. "For your... Bleeding?"  
  
Anders was shaking again, understanding rushing to him like a cascade of cold water. He clutched the nightgown close to this chest and tried to speak. "Y-you thought I-"  
  
"Danarius bled." The elf explained, looking at his own feet. "Hadriana as well. They could not stop the flow of blood from a cut they'd done to themselves." He cleared his throat. "When you refused to heal it and... When you tried leaving I just... I thought the worst. Forgive me."  
  
Anders seemed unable to catch his breath. The elf didn't know? The things he'd said- he hadn't meant him. He sucked a breath and wobbled, barely managing to keep himself up.  
  
"You should sit down." Came the concerned voice of the elf, making him laugh. He barely recognised himself, this shaking, sweating, crying mess of a person who couldn't even stand.  
  
"I'll get everything dirty." His pants were probably ruined by now. He didn't need to do the same to his mangy coat.

"You can take your clothes off." The bucket was being pushed closer to the chair and the elf moved to feed wood to the fireplace, getting the fire roaring once again. "Sit back down, it doesn't matter if you get the cushion dirty or not."  
  
He didn't know what to do with his hands. He waved the bandages around, trying to figure out what to do next. Should he take his coat off? But what then?  
  
"I can clean and bandage you if you'd like."  
  
Perhaps as the shock and fear webbed away, Anders also lost his sense of self preservation and shame.  
  
"I'm not letting you clean _me_." Came out harsher than he'd hoped. He was perplexed with the nerve of the elf. "Y-you can't bandage me either."  
  
Fenris grabbed on to the back of the chair. His ears lowered and he refused to meet his eyes. "I understand."  
  
"No. No you don't." How could he? He had thought this was some butchered attempt at a blood spell. He had never made the connection, how would anyone ever? It wasn't within the realm of possibility of a normal person's mind. Anders wanted to laugh, but he was afraid he would not be able to stop himself if he did.  
  
This was his chance. He'd tell the elf and leave. Just like that. He couldn't possibly react any worse than he had.  
  
"I'm not like you." Was all that came out at first. He couldn't believe he'd said that. It didn't mean anything yet, but all he needed was more context.  
  
"Nor like Hawke or Varric." he continued as the elf looked at him again, this time no longer hurt, but baffled. "Not exactly..."  
  
He could tell there was a question hiding under the elf's tongue, but he was keeping it in, waiting for Anders to finish.  
  
"That's why... I bleed." The words came out flat, and Anders felt numb. "Once a month. Well, nowadays it takes longer."  
  
The elf's face didn't move, and if he blinked, Anders' missed it.  
  
"That's why... I've never let you touch me there."  
  
There was silence afterwards. The healer hoped his broken explanation was enough. He'd never been able to talk about it properly, not even with Karl.  
  
"You should sit."  
  
He frowned, looking straight at the elf.  
  
"You look like you'll fall over any second now. Take your coat off and sit down, Anders." The elf moved around the chair, then left to get the bucket, dumping the water inside it in the metal pot near the fireplace.  
  
"Did you understand what I just said?" Why wasn't he reacting?  
  
"No." came the clipped response as the elf stood in front of him, this time with his arms crossed. "You'll explain it to me again when you're feeling better."  
  
"This is not a joke!" he blurred out. What was happening? Why wasn't the elf throwing him out?  
  
"I know it's serious." The elf was stirring the pot now. His voice was back to the calm gravely tone he'd used in the beginning of the night. It didn't do much to calm Anders' nerves this time though. "That's why we aren't talking about it now."  
  
He moved around him, fetching the bandages and adding them to the slowly heating water. Anders was at a loss for words.  
  
"Rest while these boil. I'll leave the room when they're done." he was told. The human looked at the chair again, hands going to his coat, but stopping while he was lost in thought.  
  
"Is it cold in here?"  
  
He shook his head. "No... I, I just don't know what to say." Or if he should stay.  
  
"There's no need." The elf moved closer again, and Anders fought to stay in place.  
  
Fenris took a deep breath. "I am sorry for what I've said earlier. I felt betrayed. Disgusted..." The elf looked at the ground again, shuffling his feet.  
  
Anders bit his lip. "I get it." Was this really fine thought? This... Camaraderie between them? "You had your reasons." How long until the elf stopped playing dumb?  
  
"I did, but it does not excuse me." Gently, oh so gently the elf reached for him, taking his hand from his death grip on his coat. "I don't ever want to see you like that again."  
  
"Bleeding all over your furniture?" Anders spat, unable to help himself. He couldn't take these soft words and all this coddling, it was making him nervous.  
  
"Crying-" the elf said, tugging at his hand. "Huddling in a corner, afraid of me."


	4. Hoc est Corpus Meum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my body.

The emotion that flickered on the elf's face was so raw it made Anders' heart ache. His ears were low again, which was something the mage had never seen him do before that night. What usually was such a sign of sentiment, in others of his race, was a barrier in Fenris. No matter how many times they'd fought in the past, the elf had never allowed his ears to show how he'd truly felt.  
  
He could feel his eyes burning again.  
  
The elf pulled him closer, taking the nightgown from his hand and then, slowly, as if Anders was a frightened child, wrapping his arms around him. Anders gasped, his back aching again like a hot brand when he stiffened in the elf's arms.  
  
"Sorry, I shouldn't have-" the elf let go, stepping away even before Anders was pulling a new breath of air.   
  
Anders shook his head, pressing a hand to his side. "Not your fault." He could tell he was in for a few bad days at least.  
  
Fenris was still hesitating, looking at him like he was afraid of breaking him with a simple word or touch. Considering what had happened a few minutes in the past, Anders could not blame him.  
  
"I can get you a towel." The hands were back, moving along the front of his coat, toying with the clasp. "You can sit on it, and put the nightgown on."  
  
Anders looked at the embroidered garment resting on the elf's arm. It didn't look as thick as his robes, but it certainly had fared better over time.   
  
Perhaps he should have cared more about being so bare next to the elf, especially after what had happened, but he was so tired. His back was aching and he could feel the dried blood tugging at the soft flesh of his thighs even as he stood. Now that he was conscious of it, there was also an ache between his legs, sometimes pulling at him like the stab of a knife when he moved too fast.  
  
He nodded and the elf let go of him to drape the nightgown on the back of the chair. "The water should be warm enough by now. I'll go fetch the towel."  
  
There was a moment of silence in which Anders felt like he should have said something, but then Fenris was leaving, giving him privacy.  
  
"I'll knock."  
  
And then he heard the sound of the door closing.  
  
For the first seconds he just stared at the fire, watching the flames dance lazily instead of thinking or moving.   
  
He felt drained, as if his will was seeping out of him as surely as is blood was, leaving a raw, gaping hole inside of him. How could so much have happened in one evening? And he was still there, now waiting for the elf to return with a towel-  
  
It was ridiculous.  
  
Maker only knew what his past dalliances would have done had he bled in front of them. Yet the elf, even after admitting he didn't understand what Anders had told him, wasn't forcing him to leave. In fact, had he not been this accommodating, the mage would surely have left long ago.  
  
It was enough to make him stay. But... He was still unsure Fenris would wish to continue anything after realising just what he was.   
  
Before his thoughts could trouble him further he took off his coat. The air was warm once more and he welcomed the lack of heavy layers. Then he moved to his pants, groaning uncomfortably as he peeled the fabric from his skin, dropping his soaked underthings as well.  
  
His instinct told him to rush, to bundle up his soiled clothing and hide it. But that would surely ruin it further, and it wasn't as if the elf hadn't seen it already. He dropped it instead inside the empty bucket and shoved it to the side.  
  
He reached for the pot, careful to not touch the warm metal, and pulled out a bandage, wrapping it around his hand and squeezing it. He ran the wet cloth over his legs and thighs. The warm water soothed him, even when he wasn't very uncomfortable with the task. Just being clean of blood was an amazing feeling.  
  
When he was done he threw the bloody bandages into the fire, reaching for the nightgown and quickly putting it on. The fabric was a lot softer than anything he owned himself, and a lot more fitting than the ratty tunic he used to sleep in.   
  
He knew it wasn't really Fenris', and probably just some article he'd found in the mansion, but he still felt lighthearted by wearing it.  
  
It was amazing how just a change of clothes could make him feel better.

"Anders, are you decent?"  
  
There was a knock as well, which made the mage smile a bit.   
  
"Come in."  
  
The elf opened the door and peeked inside, making the most adorable of surprised expressions. Anders couldn't help it, he laughed quietly, covering his mouth apologetically.  
  
It was as if the tension between them broke with his giggle. Fenris looked amused as well, and took his first step inside the room with renewed confidence.  
  
His eyes didn't stray from the tall human this time, not even when the mage didn't break contact. He narrowed them in a way Anders knew very well. He'd been dreaming of that gaze for months now.  
  
"It suits you."   
  
The way his voice dipped was a sure indicator the elf was admiring him from a distance. It sent a shiver down Anders' spine.  
  
Perhaps thinking his staring was making the mage uncomfortable, the elf started folding the towel he'd brought, then walked to the chair to cover the seat with it.  
  
Something warm grew inside Anders' chest.  
  
Then the elf turned his back to him, staring at the fire. Anders frowned, wondering about the brusqueness of the movement until he realised Fenris was giving him the privacy to sit down. He pulled the back of the nightgown up, exposing his arse to the room and then sat, hissing when he touched the chair.  
  
Fenris turned at the sound, making Anders pull his nightgown around him as fast as he could. Both were quite embarrassed, just staring at each other when no one reacted further. The human leaned back, worrying his lip between his teeth, waiting for the elf to do something.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Much better." Now that he was sitting down, freshly clean and in no danger of soiling himself further, Anders could finally relax. "Thank you... This- This was unexpected."  
  
The other chair was dragged closer to the fire and the elf sat down opposite of him, crossing his legs and leaning back in his usual pose.  
  
"This?" The elf asked, arching one eyebrow.  
  
"This-" Anders waved his hand around himself, then realising he wasn't much good at explaining anything that night. "The clothes, the towel? You didn't need to."  
  
Fenris tsked. "Nonsense. Was I supposed to let you sit in your wet pants?"  
  
Just the fact the elf had considered letting him sit was astonishing enough. The thought must have shown in his face because the elf spoke up.  
  
"Anders, ignoring my earlier behaviour... You must know I wouldn't mistreat you. I have given you even less reasons to trust me, but I stand by what I've told you this morning."   
  
Hope was a terrible thing. Anders wanted to squash it. "You don't want me." he said through gritted teeth.  
  
Fenris seemed amused, the arse. "Really?"  
  
Not to be thrown off, Anders continued. "It's not going to be like you imagined." he informed the other. "I'm not... Decent to look at."  
  
"You seem quite decent."   
  
"It's- What?" Was the elf smirking at him? The cheek! "Under my clothes!" he declared flustered.   
  
"I've seen under your clothes before."  
  
Anders opened his mouth to refute him, only to close it and open it again like a dying fish. "Between my legs, Fenris!"  
  
If he hadn't been so bewildered he would have surely noticed the elf was toying with him. His next comment came out a bit more serious though.  
  
"Are you saying that what you have between your legs is so terrible I might no longer find you enticing?"  
  
Surprisingly, Anders had never really thought about it that way."Yes." he croaked.  
  
"If I only wanted this-" the elf gestured between them. "To lead between your legs, I would have buggered you in the Hanged Man that night when you grabbed my cock."  
  
This was by far the most surreal conversation Anders had ever had. He was still trying to recover from hearing Fenris' filthy speech when the elf spoke again.  
  
"And if you think I didn't want that-" The elf stood up, stepping closer until he was leaning over the human. Anders pressed himself back against the splat of the chair, mouth open in shock. "That I still don't want that-"  
  
"You're sadly mistaken."

"F-Fenris?" The crassness made him blush, and for the first and only time, he's grateful for the pain in his loins, or he'd have an embarrassing situation at hand. Fenris had never, in all the time he'd known him, spoken Trade in anything but the most academic of words.   
  
The elf, right bastard he is, seems to pretend not to know what he's done. He doesn't close the distance, but doesn't give Anders breathing space either. He just smiles with all his teeth.  
  
Anders shudders, hands involuntarily covering his lap. The elf notices, of course.  
  
"I'm glad we reached an _understanding_." He informs him with a self-satisfied quirk of his lip, and Anders feels like pulling his hair out. He wants to reach for the elf, to wipe that smug look from his face. He wants to pull him in and kiss him until they both can't breathe-  
  
His hand shoots out, grabbing the other by his tunic. He can see the surprise in the elf's eyes, but then the other is falling down on top of him, having lost his balance. His mind is racing when he feels the elf's breath near his mouth, just an instant away from touching him.  
  
He doesn't expect the chuckle, nor the hand on his hair. It's all too sweet, and terribly unfair.   
  
"Good." It's all the elf says before he fits their mouths together.  
  
It's not a gentle kiss like the one they shared that morning. Fenris is kissing him like their first time, when they were half drunk and giddy with the novelty of it, biting his lips and pushing inside him without preamble, filling his head with the warm buzz of arousal. Anders tries to keep up, hands digging into the other's hair to hold him in place, mouth open in supplication when the elf pulls back to breathe.  
  
Fenris' lips are wet, shiny in the low light of the fireplace, and Anders wants to touch them so badly he whimpers.   
  
The elf suspires and their rhythm gets slower, with him pressing their wet mouths back together with care, running his tongue along the mage's bottom lip before sealing them in a proper kiss.  
  
They last longer this time, pressing back and forth in each other, taking advantage of their shared lust to keep going even when they gasp wetly, desperate to draw a proper breath.  
  
It's Anders who breaks the embrace, startled by the elf's bottom on his crotch, or rather, how his crotch is pressing against the elf. He wants to pull him down hard on his lap, to press up to him until there's friction. They're both panting hard, with Anders tenting the nightgown, rather distraught with his lack of control. He's positive the towel is a lot wetter now as well.  
  
When Fenris pulls back to look at him, he doesn't stay there, but rather struggles to stand. In the same minute there's a glass of wine in his hand, and the elf is sitting back down in his own chair, spreading his legs obscenely wide, the bulge in his leggings attracting Anders' gaze like a burning target.  
  
The mage doesn't try to even cover himself now. Fenris has already felt it all.  
  
The glass is drained and the elf stretches, holding his chin with his hand resting on the arm of the chair. He reminds Anders of a fat cat, lounging around after a good meal.  
  
The elf's eyes are almost black, and it could be the light playing tricks on him. But Anders is sure it's the situation.   
  
"Would you like to stay the night?" Is asked without further prompting, and Anders can tell the elf understood where his mind went. "Nothing will happen. I can be a gentleman."  
  
"You have the audacity to say that after what you just did?" Anders asks, unsure if he should feel more insulted or aroused. "After what you said?"  
  
"I will only touch you if you spread your legs for me, rest assured." The elf is quick to reply, unworried about the way he's talking.  
  
But it painted a picture in Anders' mind. There in that room, air stuffy from their closeness, under the elf's sheets, he imagined being unable to help himself, grabbing the elf's hand, _wetness_ drippin-  
  
"I can't." he retorted, angry at himself. "Not like this. It'll be a mess."  
  
"I have linens to spare." Fenris said with a flourish, waving at the ornate closet behind him. "But I can also take you back to the clinic, if you truly wish."


	5. Hora Somni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the hour of sleep.

It was unexpected. Anders didn't want to go back to his clinic, not after what Fenris had just done, as any sane person wouldn't. But every fibre of his being seemed to be telling him to go, to run. He'd come this far and he was still safe, why ruin it?  
  
Distantly he realised Justice was growing agitated.  
  
The elf wasn't pushing further. He just sat there, expression neutral, waiting for an answer.  
  
"If- If I stay..." the mage swallowed, eyeing the large ornate bed on the corner of the room. "You won't-"  
  
"I'll give you space." Fenris nodded, standing up. He seemed to be faring better than Anders. At least he didn't have a bulge any more.  
  
"Maker, Fenris." There were so many things left unsaid. So many things the elf didn't undestand. "You don't know what you ask of me." There were so many variables. His damned blood on Fenris' bed sheets, what he might or not do if he couldn't keep himself in check, and then even in sleep he had his nightmares. It was no way to treat a... a lover.  
  
"Tell me what you can." And the elf was so insufferably polite! His degree of control was grating on Anders' nerves. No one was this calm or patient, coaxing answers from him like an attentive parent to a frightened child.  
  
But Fenris could be, couldn't he? A slave to a magister for years, at the beck and call of a man he hated with a vengeance. Maker knew just what exactly he'd been forced to endure with a smile on his face. He wondered just how much Fenris could tolerate with but a stern look and casual indifference.  
  
"I have the Blight." Came in a rush. Somehow he felt a lot safer giving away this information to the elf than speaking of what exactly rested between his legs. "All Grey Warden's have. It's in my blood."  
  
He could see the elf looking at the bloody bucket by the fire. His toes curled, unable to fathom just what the other could be thinking.  
  
"I'll get it all over your sheets, where you sleep. It's not-"  
  
"You've bled all over Hawke before." Fenris was talking, reaching for the bucket. Anders almost jumped off his seat. "And Varric, and on occasion, myself."  
  
"It's not the same!" He warned, feet firmly on the floor, ready to stand. "Don't touch that!"  
  
The elf paid him no mind, grabbing Anders' pants and examining the fabric. As if the blight could be seen with the naked eye!  
  
"If your blood is as corrupted as you say, why have you not warned us before?"  
  
Anders stood up in a flash, wincing when his belly cramped from the fast movement and snatched the garment from Fenris' hands. The elf's eyes strayed behind him, to the chair.  
  
Anders was mortified, clutching the soiled pants with shaky hands and turning to see just what had captivated the elf.  
  
There was quite a large puddle of dark red blood on the startling white towel. Anders felt his stomach turn.  
  
"Legends-" the elf snorted. "Tell of a Warden's stamina."  
  
Anders neck almost snapped with how fast he turned to glare at the elf.  
  
"Those legends come from some place, don't they? Are you saying other wardens have never lain with the rabble?"  
  
Anders kept on glaring at him. "So, have they?" The elf pressed on.  
  
"They have." It was like pulling teeth. And Anders had no idea why he himself didn't want to give Fenris the answer.  
  
"And you've bled on us quite profusely. And never once, in your healer's mind, did it cross to warn us not to touch you." The elf continued making his point.  
  
"That's different!" The healer was fuming. Was the elf pretending to be dense? "Superficial contact is fine."  
  
"Just where are you imagining my mouth, Anders?" Was the elf's throaty come back, completely throwing the mage off. The elf pulled the pants from his now slack grip, and moved close enough to whisper in his ear. "Naughty."  
  
Anders trembled, the vivid image searing itself in his mind.

He didn't know what the elf's game was, but he knew he was trapped in it. Fenris never had this enjoyment with words before. He barely talked. They... They barely talked. If they did it wasn't about these indecent things. It was about mages and magic, about blood and pain.

Alone they made different sounds.  
  
"You don't know what you speak of." he admonished, feeling cornered, but unwilling to move.  
  
"Not in the way you think, no." Fenris agreed, pulling back. "You... Like the idea." he added pensively.  
  
Anders felt his face heating up. He couldn't exactly deny anything. The elf was Maker damn good at reading people.  
  
"Yet- You keep pushing me away." Was said with a sweep of his hand, something Anders had only seen Fenris do with Hawke, when they had one of their quasi-private conversations. "Using the blood as an excuse." He reached a conclusion, furrowing his brow, however, he said it as an accusation.  
  
Anders gawked at him, incredulous.  
  
"You think it's dirty." And once again Fenris caught Anders' minute expression as he spoke. The tightening of his lip, the downturn of his brow. "Not so much because of the Blight, is it?"  
  
The mage didn't acquiesce that, resolutely staring at the floor now, his palms beginning to sweat. He could distinctly hear his heartbeat speeding up in the silence of the room, his blood flowing faster in his veins, its harsh rush blocking his ears.  
  
"Anders."  
  
In a bout of distressed anger he snapped, smacking the elf's hand before it could reach him, a flash of blue light caught in his eyes. The sound echoed in the room, but all he could focus on was the mad surge of blood in his body. He wanted to speak, yell at the other, hurt him and push him away, but when he opened his mouth he choked up.  
  
He couldn't pull enough air into his lungs and his breath caught. He felt his eyes water painfully, in a second brimming with tears. Mortified, his hands clenched into shaking fists as he tried his best not to blink.  
  
The elf looked horrified, evidently not expecting this reaction from Anders. He seemed unsure if touching the human would have consequences he'd rather not suffer. But then a lone tear traced down the pale cheek, and the mage almost convulsed as countless others followed.  
  
"Venhedis." He took a step forward.  
  
Anders took a counter step back, dropping his pants on the floor, heaving with emotion.  
  
"Anders, it's not." He tried assuring the man. But it only seemed to make him worse. Distressed and unsure of what to do, he continued. "Did anyone tell you that?"  
  
The mage shook his head, gasping, refusing to acknowledge the elf. In his distress he simply wanted the conversation to end, to be forgotten. But it wasn't to be. The elf reached for his hand, and feeling exhausted, Anders didn't move away. He sobbed harder when Fenris touched him, but stood still.  
  
"Y-You don't-" It was hard to talk over his shortness of breath. "-know."

"And I don't care." The elf told him resolutely. "I truly don't. What makes you think I would? That you're a woman? A man?"  
  
He wasn't. Anders bit his tongue hard, wanting to keep the pain in his heart at bay. If he was any, instead of neither, there wouldn't be a problem.  
  
But the elf didn't let go, not when he refused to answer, nor when he grew tired enough to mutter his defeat. "J-just l-look-" he sobbed.  
  
He felt a hand at his hip and yelped, but it only served to bring him closer to the warm body in front of him. It rested there resolutely, pressing the nightgown against his heated skin. His next sob was of relief, and he leaned on the elf, hiding his face on the shorter man's neck, muffling his sounds.  
  
Absently he realised he was getting snot and tears all over Fenris, but the close contact of that warm body to his was too soothing to make him break away. Fenris held him tight, one hand softly petting his loose hair as he calmed down.  
  
He was dazed when the elf pulled back, staring at his face with worry. His breath still hitched, and his eyes stung, signalling the beginning of a nasty headache.  
  
The other's hand wiped his wet face, pulling his hair behind his ears. None of them knew how exactly to face each other after that. It had been years since Anders had last burst into tears, and Fenris had never been needed this way, to support someone in their time of grief. The humiliation at the face of his actions made Anders want to hide, in hopes that Fenris would not have the courage to follow.  
  
They both stood facing each other for what seemed an age and a day, until Anders' breathing was unhurried and the salt of his dried tears burned his eyes.  
  
He moved with shaky legs, led by Fenris, and waited until the elf opened his bed, pulling an absurd amount of blankets back, in order to lay a folded sheet of linen on the mattress.  
  
He climbed in wordlessly, not sure if he kept quiet because of shame, or if they had finally found silence comfortable enough to let it fill the space among them.  
  
Perhaps he was too numb to care for anything but the softness of the pillow under his head, when the elf, carefully covering him with the blankets first, made himself comfortable at his side, running his fingers through his hair until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment to let me know how you feel about this chapter. It made me feel a lot. I'm totally exhausted now, from all these feels.
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed this so far!


	6. Mutatis Mutandis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changing what must be changed.

The morning sunlight shone bright against his face.   
  
It was warm enough that Anders didn't stir when he first came to, choosing instead to snuggle against the blankets until the angle shifted just enough it bothered his eyes. Only then did he blink awake.  
  
At first he thought he was still in the Fade. The rays of sunlight made tiny particles of dust dance slowly in the chilly morning air, almost like mist. And the blankets around his body weighted on him, not in a bad way, but as if they were a warm hug. He brought his knees up, closer to his chest, grunting when his belly complained and the nightgown he slept in pulled at the dried blood between his thighs.  
  
That's when he realised he wasn't asleep any more.  
  
He sat up, immediately regretting it when the blankets fell off him, leaving him facing the morning cold in only his thin night robe. Usually he'd be up without a problem, having slept without a blanket for years, but the shift in temperature had him hugging himself, shivering.   
  
The memory of last night hit Anders like a mad bronto, making him wince. Cold forgotten, the mage let go of his arms to grab onto the blankets. Embarrassment burned his skin red, and he buried his head on the pillows again, groaning dejectedly.  
  
He started remembering the hot tears of shame running down his face. How he'd acted like a petulant child when faced with a harsh truth he couldn't deny and, mortified, how he'd cried at the elf to lift his skirts and take a look at his shame.  
  
But the elf hadn't done so. He recalled the panic when he felt his hand on his hip, his despair when he thought Fenris would actually do it. How relieved he was he was just held.  
  
Everything else, moving to the bed, falling asleep... That was just a blur.   
  
"You're awake."  
  
The mage huffed, not moving from his spot. He knew he was blushing from how warm his face felt. There was no need for the elf to see that again.  
  
He heard the telltale of bare feet, and felt the bed dip slightly. Not a second later there was a hand in his hair, not really doing much, just messing the strands around with a soft touch.  
  
Belatedly he realised he'd fallen asleep to that same caress.  
  
The elf didn't speak, continuing the petting without interruption. Anders felt a bit like a cat then, ignoring his owner for no other particular reason than pride, but relishing in the contact all the same. The silly thought made him smile, and with that in his mind, he turned his face to the elf.  
  
What he saw made his heart skip a beat.  
  
He'd never seen such a content expression on his lover's face. His eyes were almost closed, as if Anders was the one petting him, and his lips had a slight curve, turning his mouth into a breathtaking smile.   
  
Fenris' hand left his hair, tracing the curve of his jaw lazily, as if curious, perhaps because of his beard. He continued while Anders gathered his bearings and finally spoke.  
  
"Good morning." he rasped, becoming aware of how bad his voice sounded.   
  
"Morning, mage." Was his answer. The touching continued.  
  
It wasn't that Anders disliked it. Oh, no, he'd gladly stay in bed all day for that. But Fenris seemed so... Tender. It was slightly disturbing.  
  
He sat up, not pushing Fenris away, but expecting the hand to fall off as he moved. He looked down on himself, hand covering the pinkish stains on his garment. Doubtlessly they'd be all over the sheets as well.   
  
"Your clothes are clean." The elf spoke, placing a folded bundle on the bed. Anders blinked, taking in the sight of his blood-free pants. He had been sure they were beyond washing yesterday. "Thought I believe your... Underclothes are useless."  
  
Anders pulled at the clothes and saw what Fenris meant. The already stringy cloth he'd been using was so thin he could see through it. Yet it was spotless. He wished he couldn't easily deduce the reason why Fenris could wash blood off so well.   
  
"You didn't need to." he said, crumpling the flimsy undergarment in his fist. "I should have done it." He looked at the side. "The... chair?"  
  
Fenris shook his head. "I scrubbed it as well. You fell into deep sleep, and I saw no reason to make you lose time this morning, mage."  
  
Anders looked down at his lap, feeling terribly in debt with the elf. "Thank you."

The elf nodded, taking the gratitude in a simple way. It eased Anders' nerves. Too much coddling would probably set him off.  
  
"I suppose you'll want to go to the clinic?" Was the elf's next question.  
  
"Yes." It wasn't terribly late, but in a normal day he'd have opened it hours ago. He could already imagine the cue in front of the clinic doors. "I really need to go."  
  
"To work?" Fenris' voice held an edge. "In... Your condition?"  
  
Anders bristled. Of all the things he'd expect the elf to say, this wasn't it. "I'm not lame, you know." He made to move of the bed. "Women have it worse than I."  
  
The elf held out both hands. "I am merely curious. I did not mean to offend." He seemed sincere, which deflated Anders somewhat.  
  
It was a conversation he'd never had before, so he supposed he could be expected to be a little defensive.  
  
"I can work. It's no more annoying than a sore muscle, or a light wound." he explained, turning slightly as he left the bed, so Fenris would not be greeted by one of his larger stains.  
  
"Sore muscles and light wounds can make even the greatest warrior fall in battle, mage." The bite was back to the elf's tone. It automatically irked Anders.  
  
"Well, I am not a warrior, am I?" he retaliated, stopping when he realised he'd couldn't undress unless the elf left.  
  
Fenris crossed his arms, clearly miffed about the turn of the conversation. There was no come back though, the elf let the tension die. "Very well."  
  
The insufferable prat! Anders crossed his arms as well, in a caricature of the elf. Fenris snorted.   
  
"Since when is it impossible to start a fight with you?" He wondered out loud, giving the elf the stink eye.  
  
Fenris ignored him, turned away and walking out of the room. "I'll bring you new underclothes."   
  
For a moment Anders thought about chasing the elf, demanding to look him in the eye when talking to him. But then he realised the other was trying to mitigate things between then, not offend him further. It was a strange turn of events.  
  
Well, all things considered, perhaps not so strange.  
  
Sighing, Anders pulled at the folded linen, surprised to see it was mostly spotless. He set it at the edge of the bed and sat down, waiting.  
  
Turns out he didn't have to wait long.   
  
A bunch of underthings were laid on the bed. Anders noticed with suspicion most were of... The lacy variety. He gave Fenris the eye again.  
  
"Turn your thoughts elsewhere, mage." The elf mumbled, sorting through the things. The conversation had provoked him indeed, and now he didn't seem so keen on being playful. "I suspected you needed... Feminine gear."  
  
Anders regretted his barbed words. The overall mood was steadily declining because of him.  
  
"That's... considerate of you." he forced himself to say, pushing down the shame of admitting that not only he was wrong, but also the thoughts of himself in those... Frilly aberrations. "I suppose you're right."  
  
Stranger even was the fact that the elf seemed to be the one picking which knickers to wear.  
  
Fenris pulled out a few white intimate things, and began sorting through the others. Anders coughed.  
  
"Why-"  
  
"Some are moth ridden." Was the immediate response, turning the elf's ears slightly pink. "Full of holes."  
  
Why even bother, was what Anders wanted to ask. But he figured he'd already shoved his foot in his mouth enough times. He'd better appreciate the hospitality.   
  
Finally the elf seemed pleased, and pushed a select few to him. Anders was dismayed to notice that the plainest seemed to be the ones in worse state. And true to the elf's word, most were yellowed with age, and riddled with holes.   
  
In contrast, the ones the elf had pushed to him looked almost new. Possibly never used before. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but Anders paid it no heed.  
  
He picked up a nice number, with only a bit of lace of the sides. Then shot the elf a look.  
  
"Right." For a second Fenris sounded unsure. "I shall leave you to it."

Anders waited until the door was firmly closed behind the elf to start pulling at the stained nightgown.  
  
Although he'd made a mess of it, this was still much more comfortable to sleep in than his usual affair, almost barricading himself inside his rooms and trying to sleep with whatever little clean cotton he had shoved between his legs. It was always a challenge to fall asleep like that, especially when his smalls kept moving around and the risk of spilling blood onto his mattress was high.  
  
He didn't have any cotton here though. And for all Fenris seemed to have thought wearing female underwear would help, he completely missed the point by not providing him with an absorbent material. He supposed he could always fold his old underwear and...  
  
Anders looked at the quietly crackling fireplace, where the iron pot still rested over the fire, then down at his legs, where a small line of red was making it's way down his thigh. He closed his eyes and shivered, quickly looking away before his eyes caught on his crotch.  
  
He needed to clean himself again, and then perhaps a new solution could be found.  
  
Thankfully the water was lukewarm, and once again the soaked bandages felt wonderful against his skin, washing away the dried and fresh specks of colour in seconds. If wood wasn't so expensive and precious, he'd have a pot like this back at the clinic to boil water and keep himself warm at all times.  
  
When he was done he threw the spotted cloth into the fire away and picked a new strip, squeezing it and then closing both hands over it, forcing an unnatural amount of heat to make it steam.  
  
He sighed as he pulled the knickers up, the folded bandage resting neatly inside. He swore to never admit how good that felt. The white underthings were snug, much tighter than what he usually wore, and actually made him feel like the cloth wouldn't move around much.  
  
It was strangely safe, if a bit emasculating.  
  
"Not like I have room to talk..." he whispered dejectedly, staring down his body again. But not even like that he looked right. There was still... A bulge, in those lady knickers. Completely out of place.  
  
Before he could wind himself further Anders reached for his clean clothes, once again admiring the amount of work the elf had done. Blood was extremely hard to get off, especially thick, dark blood like his had been.   
  
This time the elf hadn't knocked by the time he'd finished getting dressed, so Anders sat down next to the pile of unfolded panties.   
  
They were all... Interesting.   
  
Things Anders would definitely like seeing a lady wearing, and clearly high quality. He doubted high class ladies wore these during their menses though, they looked too clean and too white. But whatever their alternative was Anders could not imagine.  
  
For a moment he cursed himself for his ignorance. Back in the circle he'd been quickly shoved aside as soon as the tranquils handling him noticed his anomaly. No one was to know, to see or even suspect. Every time he'd been afflicted they'd moved him to the healers quarters, and...  
  
"Anders, are you done?"  
  
The mage jumped off the bed, his hand pressing against his sore belly. "Yes."  
  
The elf carried something in his hands again, a burlap bag from what Anders could see.  
  
He quietly watched as the elf folded and shoved each pair of lacy underwear inside the bag, tying its mouth in a knot and then giving it to him. Anders took the sack in silence.   
  
"They're yours."  
  
Anders stared down at the bag. It was such a strange thing to offer him. And... Would it even be considered a gift? This was not typically what he should wear.  
  
Before he could dwell on it any further the elf was grabbing his gigantic sword and attaching it to his back.  
  
"If you insist on working, I shall accompany you to the clinic."  
  
The tone was final, and then Anders was reminded the elf was still not amused with him. He nodded, pressing his lips tightly together, and pulled the sack over his back, making enough room to carry his staff as well.  
  
In his mouth died all the snappy retorts about both of them walking together in the daylight. For now he'd take this for what it was, a kindness, and nothing more.

\-------------

The trip down to Darktown was tense.   
  
Fenris, true to his nature, wasn't keen on letting go of problems easily, and he seemed to brood all the way down to the steps of the Hanged Man. He could have possible carried his sulking further, hadn't Anders had enough of it and stopped right by the door.  
  
"Right. We're not doing this." he snapped, leaning on the wall. His back pain was back, possibly set off by the pressure in his head about the whole situation.  
  
"This being exactly what, mage?" the elf barked back, not even bothering to lower his voice.  
  
"This!" he gestured impatiently. "This whole nanny act! You're not even happy with this!"  
  
The elf bared his teeth, glaring at him. It seemed like one of their arguments would ignite right then, except the elf actually took a deep breath and gathered his bearings before continuing.  
  
"No, I am not happy with this." He grumbled, pointing at him. "This irresponsible act of yours."  
  
Anders gawked at him. "E-Excuse me!" he squeaked, so affronted he was, he could not control his voice.  
  
"No, I will not!" Fenris' tone rose, but the elf still managed to keep his voice down. "You should be resting. Not going down into that filth ridden hole in the ground."  
  
An inexplicable anger surged over Anders, and he barely forced himself to hold Justice back. "Since when do YOU care?"  
  
Fenris almost certainly had not been expecting that and he could see how his argument quickly shut down the elf. His large pupils turned into slits and Anders' hair stood on end. His hand shot out, prepared to reach for his staff.  
  
But Fenris didn't move. His breathing grew a bit ragged and he kept staring at Anders with those unblinking feline eyes.  
  
Then he broke eye contact and looked away. Anders felt awkward. That really wasn't a question he wanted Fenris to answer, not when they were involved like this. No matter how superficial, it still hurt when a lover denied another.  
  
"Why do you insist-" Came a ragged question. "On continuing to be insufferable?" The elf clenched his hands, still breathing a bit faster than usual.  
  
"Why do insist on coddling me?" he hissed back, almost basking on having the topic shift from the dead-end he'd shoved it into. "I am not-" he almost growled the next part himself. "A woman!"  
  
Fenris turned rigid, his breathing visibly stopping for a while, then he turned to the man, eyes back to normal but a frown still on his face. "What?!"  
  
Anders clenched his hands hard. "First the- The coddling, trying to control me, then the knickers!" he spit. "I am not a woman! Do not treat me like one!"  
  
Fenris blinked, an actual slow blink. Like Anders had been speaking Ander or something equally ineligible.   
  
And then he laughed. A halted little thing. "What?"

"You heard me!" Anders said through gritted teeth. "Don't make me repeat myself."  
  
He should have known. Fenris might not have been disgusted by him, but being made fun of for what he had between his legs was just harrowing.  
  
The elf shook his head, and Anders took a step back. He wasn't going to just stand there and take it. He refused.  
  
Fenris must have sensed an urgency to his actions, because he reached for him before he could turn and leave. "Mage... Don't do this here."  
  
Now he was being scolded like he was someone's hysterical wife. The elf was crossing the mark!  
  
"I will do what I want!" he hissed, pulling against the other's grip. He didn't budge. "I'm not yours to do as you please!"  
  
Fenris released him as if burnt. Anders could hear his blood rushing in his ears and his face warming up. He shouldn't have said it like that.  
  
He started walking.  
  
"It was a suggestion." he heard the other say. "Anders..."  
  
"I can't do this now." the mage stopped the other before he could finish. "I... I have the clinic, and I have-" What else did he have? Why couldn't he think? Suddenly he felt as if everyone around them had stopped to stare at him. All the drunkards and shop owners, the beggars and the passing crowd. He didn't dare look up in fear of catching their eyes.  
  
"I didn't mean- didn't know it bothered you." Came the elf's voice, closer than he expected, making him flinch. He was speaking quietly though. So low he could barely hear him. "I just wanted you to have clean underwear."  
  
Anders forced himself to look up and turn around, fighting his fear of being watched. There was hardly anyone around them, and those who were indeed looking at them, where to far away to be able to hear them if they spoke like this.  
  
"I don't wear knickers!" he managed to say quietly, still seething. "Nor do I need you to hold my hand, or gift them to me like I'm some feeble maiden!"  
  
He knew Fenris just needed to mention last night to make his argument crumble. He had been at his worst, crying and snivelling, afraid of the elf and embarrassed to death about his body. Thankfully the elf didn't resort to that. He arched an eyebrow instead.  
  
"You... Don't wear knickers?" He said, acting surprised. "I- I don't understand."  
  
Maker. Anders huffed. Of all the things, he had not expected Fenris to try pretend to be the fool  
  
"What don't you understand?" he really couldn't talk about this here, in public. It was bad enough when they had four walls and a hole-ridden roof over their heads. "Whatever little fantasy made you run off and buy me these lacy deviations is not happening!" he said decisively.   
  
Fenris choked on his spit, looking as embarrassed as Anders felt right then. "I- I did not, mage!" he argued, this time being the one looking around worriedly. "I-"  
  
"You what? Just happened to have these around the house?" He demanded, intent of embarrassing the elf further now that he'd uncovered his plot.

But the elf was quick to prove him wrong, almost yelling out a strained "Yes!"  
  
"Yo- What?"   
  
Fenris talked fast, wanting to make sure there were no more misunderstandings. "I found them in the mansion, yes. I washed them last night and left them all to dry until morning."  
  
Anders' mouth turned dry.  
  
"I didn't buy them! I did not have fantasies- I mean, I don't- I, Venhedis!" The elf cursed, actually looking flustered.  
  
"You... Washed them?" Anders asked, perplexed. "Why didn't you give me men's underwear?!"   
  
"Why?" Again he looked at him incredulous. "You were wearing those- those things! How would you handle yourself with drawers?"  
  
"What things?" Anders had not realised both their voices were becoming louder as they got more miffed with each other. "What do you mean?"  
  
Fenris was about to answer when the door to the Hanged Man burst open. Both shut up as a severely drunk man dragged himself out.  
  
"We can't do this here." Anders huffed, more annoyed now than when he'd began. But at least he wasn't feeling as threatened by Fenris. The elf looked ready to give him a nasty answer but held back at the last moment.   
  
"We will continue this later." He told him, adjusting the bag over his shoulder. "You are going back to your mansion, and I'm going to work." He said, leaving him with no room for arguments.  
  
The elf mumbled to himself, but ended up answering with a clipped "Fine. But I will join you tonight."   
  
Before he could curse at the elf's stubbornness, the other had turned away and left.  
  
The mage cast his retreating back one last look before turning and making his way out of Lowtown as well.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I arrived safely in London. 
> 
> My job leaves me tired as heck and this is the last chapter I have written, so the next one might take longer to show up. 
> 
> Tell me what you think guys, and try to guess just what was the misunderstanding here, I have it on good word that no one has found out yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will go up as the story advances, as to not spoil the plot.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this as it's written. The fiction here touches a sensitive subject and without your reviews I would too afraid to continue.
> 
> I also have a tumblr at [This is the wrong number](http://saeterdaeg.tumblr.com/) where I draw, sometimes. Dirty stuff... Yeah.


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